


A Lesson In Patience

by Hustling_Rube93



Series: Stay [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Desk Sex, F/F, Impatient Hermione, Lesbian Sex, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Sexual Humor, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:53:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24727057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hustling_Rube93/pseuds/Hustling_Rube93
Summary: Hermione didn’t know what the lady version of blue balls was, but she’d been living with it since ten a.m.Just some shameless smut.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Series: Stay [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574908
Comments: 16
Kudos: 243





	A Lesson In Patience

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. All mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

Hermione watched her. 

Watched the tilt of her head as her charcoal black eyes flitted over the case files in front of her. 

Watched her pale throat bob as she swallowed mouthfuls of tea. 

Watched the little furrow between her eyebrows that often appeared whenever she was concentrating particularity hard on something. 

But most of all, Hermione watched her hands. 

Watched the way her slender fingers loosely held the ridiculously expensive Muggle fountain pen that her mother and father had gifted her the previous Christmas. 

Watched the way her wrist shifted delicately as her hand swept elegantly across the parchment, scribbling rapid notes in her flawless copperplate. 

Watched the way she absently twiddled a curl that had come loose from her messy bun with the other hand, twisting it around and around her index finger. 

Watching Bellatrix write was honestly a bit of a turn on. Okay, a lot of a turn on. In fact, most things Bellatrix did were a turn on. 

And Hermione couldn’t help but imagine those hands trailing down her naked sides, the right palm a little rougher than the left, because no one could wield a wand the way Bellatrix had for so many years and not end up with a few callouses - of course, it only added to the delicious friction. 

Imagined blunt, black painted nails raking down her stomach, leaving burning trails in their wake that would make her shudder and gasp. 

Imagined deft fingers, squeezing her arse, digging into her hips hard enough to bruise, pushing her thighs wider as her dark head and her wicked mouth dipped towards her warm centre.

Better still, Hermione imagined those fingers in her. Teasing her. Stroking her. Spurring her higher and higher until she reached near impossible heights, and then gently easing her back down to Earth again until she was nothing more than a gasping mess of trembling limbs and ecstasy. 

Hermione ached for those hands and she wanted those hands. 

She wanted them now. 

And more often than not, she got what she wanted. 

Hermione didn’t know what the lady version of blue balls was, but she’d been living with it since ten a.m. 

And now, in the nearly twelve hours that had passed since Harry had strode through their fireplace unannounced and disturbed their romp on the couch, sexual frustration had well and truly set in. Her best friend had been mortified, of course, but she was still too annoyed at the fact that they’d been disturbed just as Bellatrix had been three fingers deep in her to feel even the slightest bit embarrassed about it. 

Sod’s Law wasn’t it? That the first day of her fortnight long break from work happened to overlap with Harry’s request for Bellatrix to look into a few things for the DMLE?

Harry really did have the worst timing sometimes. She’d thought about choking him all day.

And now, night had long since fallen since he’d hightailed it back to Grimmauld Place like his arse was on fire and she felt like she was about to spontaneously combust. 

She snapped the book that she’d been attempting to read shut without even marking her page and swung her legs off the armchair she was lounging in. Unsurprisingly, Bellatrix didn’t even spare her a glance as she stalked across the study towards her - even wearing her skimpiest pyjamas wasn’t enough to get her attention. 

Occasionally, Harry asked Bellatrix to consult on ongoing Dark Lord sympathiser cases and rogue Death Eater investigations for the DMLE. Bellatrix was always happy to help, jumping at any opportunity she got to put some of her old Death Eater buddies behind bars. In fact, just before Christmas, she’d helped Harry and his team to shut down an illegal potions ring that had been set up in an old Death Eater hideaway. 

Hermione knew the work was important to her witch, but when Harry dropped the case files off that morning, she never expected Bellatrix to still be so engrossed in them so many hours later. 

Hours that had eaten into the first day of her holiday.

It had been days, almost two weeks since they’d last had sex. The weeks leading up to her holiday had been long, the paperwork boring, and things had been so hectic at the office that Hermione had barely had enough energy at the end of the day to partake in anything more strenuous than a quickie. 

She was itching to get her hands on Bellatrix now though, and she refused to be ignored any longer. 

Sidling around the desk, she stood behind Bellatrix’s chair and started kneading her fingers into the tight knots in the dark witch’s shoulders. Bellatrix immediately groaned and tilted her head back against Hermione’s stomach. 

“Hey, you,” Hermione said, looking down at Bellatrix with her brightest smile. 

“Mm, hullo,” Bellatrix hummed, and her dark eyes fluttered closed momentarily as Hermione’s fingers dug into her stiff muscles. 

Then, quickly seizing her chance, Hermione bent down and kissed Bellatrix, slanting her mouth over hers and dancing her fingers along Bellatrix’s sharp collarbone as she did so. Down, down, down she went, until her fingers wiggled under the v-neck collar of her t-shirt and under the lacy cup of her bra to palm the generous swell of her breast. 

“Mmph - two seconds, love,” Bellatrix mumbled against her mouth, and then she pulled away. 

Hermione’s brow creased in partial disbelief and annoyance. 

Was this witch for real? 

She tried again and stepped to the side so she could watch as Bellatrix’s hand flew across the parchment once more. Contrary to her own cramped scrawl, Bellatrix wrote in a beautiful, flowing script, the kind she assumed most Pureblood children were taught in their youth. Her w’s were impeccable, transitioning neatly into adjoining vowels. The loops on her g’s and the tails on her y’s were all identical, almost as if she’d used a stencil to write them. 

Focus, the little voice inside her head practically screamed. Now was not the time to be distracted by Bellatrix’s swanky handwriting. 

She bent down again to press a soft, lingering kiss against Bellatrix’s cheek. The dark witch merely hummed in response, the corners of her mouth tugging up into a small smile, but she continued to write. Then Hermione swept the short, wispy curls at Bellatrix’s nape to the side and pressed another kiss to the back of her neck, lightly grazing her teeth over the taut flesh there. 

Bellatrix turned and her eyes crinkled affectionately in a way that Hermione found incredibly endearing, and she pressed a quick kiss to Hermione’s lips. Hermione immediately tried to deepen the kiss and their tongues brushed briefly before Bellatrix turned away again, shuffling between a handful of ugly Azkaban mugshots and crime scene photos.

“What’s Harry got you working on this time?” Hermione tried, wondering what was so important that the dark witch couldn’t seem to pull herself away, and she rested her chin on Bellatrix’s shoulder. “More illegal trade?”

Bellatrix shook her head and muttered, “Just some cold cases he wanted me to look over.”

Hermione’s nostrils flared in irritation. To know that it wasn’t even an active case that had kept Bellatrix from her for most of the day was all the more frustrating. 

“Ah,” Hermione nodded, and nuzzled the sensitive spot behind Bellatrix’s ear that never failed to make her squirm. The dark witch twisted away with little laugh, but still didn’t acknowledge her. Hermione pursed her lips. “Well, are you nearly finished? It’s quite late and I’d like to go to bed.”

“You go ahead, darling,” Bellatrix murmured absently. “I won’t be long.”

“Bella,” Hermione nearly whined. “I’ve barely seen you today—“

“Another brew would be nice, thank you, darling,” Bellatrix hummed, and Hermione knew her witch hadn’t heard a single bloody word she’d just said. 

Losing patience, she murmured against Bellatrix’s ear, “I’d really like it if you joined me in bed. Please.”

“I think I’m onto some—“

Bellatrix’s words left her in a whoosh when Hermione suddenly bent her head and nipped at the throat. 

“Belle,” Hermione breathed hotly against her ear, barely holding back a little victory dance when the dark witch visibly shivered at the rarely used nickname. “I’m horny as hell. Why don’t you leave all that and sort me out, hm?” she whispered silkily. “Finish what you started this morning before we were so rudely interrupted...”

Bellatrix’s hand stilled and she dropped her pen, twisting sharply in her chair to look at Hermione. Her dark eyes roved over Hermione’s face for a few seconds and she bit her bottom lip hesitantly. Hermione’s belly rolled pleasantly with want and arousal because she was sure she was so close to breaking her now.

“Hermione, I—” Bellatrix’s gaze flickered briefly back to the parchment scattered over the desk and her hand twitched over her pen.

Hermione immediately felt offended and straightened to her full height to glare down at Bellatrix. 

The older woman pouted. “I’m sorry, sweetness, but whatever you had in mind, it’s not happening.” 

Hermione’s eyebrows shot up and she crossed her arms, incredulous. 

“I know you’re on holiday, but I think I’m really close to putting some of these slippery fuckers in Azkaban. I’ll make it up to you, I promise, but...” She trailed off and gestured helplessly to the cluttered desk. 

Hermione didn’t think she’d ever seen Bellatrix look so adorably apologetic, but she had one more trick up her sleeve. 

“Oh, it’s fine love, I know it’s important to you,” Hermione sighed deeply, making a show of squeezing Bellatrix’s arm in understanding. “But I’m going to bed, can I at least have a goodnight kiss before I turn in?”

Bellatrix’s entire face softened and she used her feet to push the chair out from under the desk. “Silly girl, you don’t need to ask.”

Hermione smiled sweetly and allowed Bellatrix to draw her in for a kiss. It was soft and gentle, and Hermione could’ve just melted against her then and there, but she needed to concentrate on the task at hand, and quickly sunk down into Bellatrix’s lap, straddling her on the chair. Bellatrix’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and her hands flew to Hermione’s hips, to push her away or pull her closer, Hermione wasn’t sure, nor did she particularly care, because now that she had Bellatrix exactly where she wanted her, she had no intentions just to toddle off to bed on her own. 

The dark witch looked like she was going to argue, but Hermione chased away any protests with her lips and her teeth, and gently pried Bellatrix’s mouth open with her probing tongue. She raked her fingers through Bellatrix’s hair and tugged at the tie holding it in place until her dark curls tumbled free and bounced loosely around her shoulders. With her other hand, she cradled Bellatrix’s jaw, holding her head firmly in place, purposely keeping her kisses deep and devastatingly slow in an attempt to reel her in further. 

It didn’t take long for Bellatrix’s body to betray her reluctance, and pretty quickly her hips started straining towards Hermione. She skimmed her palms roughly up Hermione’s thighs, and Hermione shivered, the mental image of those hands twirling dark curls and holding her pen only turning her on further. And when Bellatrix tugged at Hermione’s plump bottom lip, nibbling and sucking gently, Hermione knew she had Bellatrix’s undivided attention now. 

Her defeat was imminent, Hermione could feel it. 

So she jerked her head back and Bellatrix blinked up at her, confusion and arousal swirling in her hooded, black eyes. 

“Mmm, thank you,” Hermione murmured and quickly clambered off of Bellatrix’s lap. “I’ll leave you to finish up. Goodnight, darling.”

But before Hermione could step away, Bellatrix flew towards her with alarming speed. 

“C’mere!” the dark witch growled, grabbing Hermione by the arms and spinning her around to face the desk. Hermione thrilled a little at being manhandled so viciously, then yelped in surprise when Bellatrix fisted her hand almost painfully in her hair and pushed her face and body down so she was bent over the desk, arse in the air. 

“What’re you doing?” Hermione giggled breathlessly, as if the answer wasn’t obvious.

“You...” Bellatrix rasped, grinding against Hermione’s backside. 

“Oh, Bella, we shouldn’t!” Hermione moaned in both pleasure and pain. The hard press of Bellatrix’s body against hers pushed her pelvis into the edge of the desk, but despite the sharp stab in her hipbones, she couldn’t help the self-satisfied little smirk that curled at the edges of her mouth, and she rested her cheek against the cool wood beneath her face. “You still have so much work to—”

“Be quiet!” Bellatrix snarled, and raked her nails over the soft flesh at the back of Hermione’s thigh. “Naughty girl, like this wasn’t what you wanted all along. You must think I’m daft?”

“Not at all,” Hermione insisted, still attempting to feign innocence even as she wantonly spread her legs and Bellatrix’s hand wandered higher. 

Bellatrix laughed harshly and leaned over to press her breast against Hermione’s back. “Liar!” she hissed against Hermione’s ear. “You’ve been gagging for this all day, haven’t you? Admit it, you’re nothing but a dirty little slag.”

Hermione moaned shamelessly. 

The words tumbling so effortlessly from Bellatrix’s filthy mouth sent a pleasant vibration down her spine and straight to her aching cunt. She grit her teeth and shuddered, curling her fingers around the edge of the desk in preparation for the pounding she was no doubt going to get. Then, when she heard Bellatrix smile against her ear and her lover’s fingers danced around her flat belly to wiggle under the waistband of her pyjama shorts, she was glad she was pressed against the desk because her legs probably would’ve buckled otherwise. 

“My, my,” Bellatrix cooed, sliding two fingers through Hermione’s wet heat. “Is this all for me? You really are a dirty girl.”

“Mmh, all for you, Bella,” Hermione groaned, exhaling a shaky breath that fluttered the papers still littering the desk. If there was one thing that never failed to make her sizzle in all the right places, it was Bellatrix’s dirty talk. “More,” she demanded, breathless and aching. “Please...more.”

Bellatrix chuckled darkly and flicked her tongue against Hermione’s ear. “Bossy little thing, aren’t you?” she purred.

Hermione’s legs trembled and she whined, “Bella!” 

Bellatrix continued to stroke and tease her, purposely keeping her fingers away from the place Hermione wanted it most even as Hermione attempted to roll and shift her hips in a desperate need for friction. “Something the matter, luvvy?”

“Can we move this to the bedroom? Please...I can’t wait,” Hermione pleaded. She pressed her hands flat against the desk and tried to push herself up, but her sweaty palm slipped on the smooth mahogany wood, sending Bellatrix’s half empty mug thumping to the floor. 

“Bossy and messy,” Bellatrix tutted reproachfully as tea splattered across the carpet. Then she sunk her teeth into the tight flesh between Hermione’s neck and shoulder with a threatening growl.

Hermione mewled and strained against Bellatrix’s weight on her back, but the dark witch held fast, tightening her grip around Hermione’s hair, and pushed her face hard against the desk. A noise of frustration rumbled in the back of Hermione’s throat when she saw Bellatrix’s devilish smirk out of the corner of her eye. 

“You just couldn’t wait, could you?” Bellatrix chastised her, tongue darting out to soothe the red marks left by her teeth. “I think you need a lesson in patience, kitten.”

“Bella...” Hermione gasped. 

They didn’t fuck like this often, but Hermione loved it when they did, loved being at Bellatrix’s absolute mercy, loved the way her witch could be gentle when needed and rough when wanted. 

“How about a little game, hm?” Bellatrix mumbled. Her fingers slid lower, teasing Hermione’s entrance, and dipped inside briefly before slipping away again. 

“Does this game - ah! - have rules?” Hermione panted, playing along despite her desperate need to be fucked. 

“Just one,” Bellatrix said sweetly. “You have to do exactly what I say.”

“And if I don’t?” Hermione challenged cheekily. 

Bellatrix licked the shell of her ear and whispered, “Then I’ll stop. What do you say, dove? Wanna play?”

“Absolutely. Anything you want,” Hermione groaned. And she would do anything. Anything that would give her even the slightest bit of relief. “Now, please...please just fuck me...”

The hand stroking between her legs stopped and Hermione could hear the delight in Bellatrix’s voice when she hummed, “Are you telling _me_ what to do?”

“Bella...don’t tease,” Hermione whimpered.

“We’ll start with these I think,” Bellatrix told her, ignoring her plea, and she slid her hand out from inside Hermione’s shorts to snap the waistband against her hip. “Take them off.”

Hermione wordlessly obeyed and quickly pushed both her shorts and her sodden underwear down to her ankles, kicking them away. 

“Good girl,” Bellatrix hummed, and bent Hermione over the desk again, forcing her down against the wood with a firm hand between her shoulder blades. “Now, not a sound...” she warned. “Or I’ll stop.”

Hermione didn’t think that was going to be realistically possible. She’d never felt such a desperate need for friction, but she braced her forearms against the desk anyway and sucked in a shuddering breath, nodding in compliance.

The first loud crack across her bare arse was so unexpected that her body jerked, nearly flying off the desk, and she cried out in surprise. Bellatrix never even gave her any warning and the sound of her palm hitting her backside echoed obscenely around the office. 

Maybe that’s why the first slap was the sweetest. 

“Not a sound!” Bellatrix hissed in reminder, and cracked her open palm across Hermione’s arse again. 

Hermione felt tears prick the corners of her eyes and she gasped as Bellatrix continued to spank her. She probably wouldn’t be able to sit down for a while after this, at least not without some bruise removal paste, but she wasn’t complaining. Not really. 

Their sex life was usually very vanilla - a fact that would probably surprise most people - but it was always a turn on whenever they threw a little kink into the mix. They knew each other’s limits and enjoyed the same things - a little light bondage, a blindfold, maybe a toy or two. Nothing too wild. But there was something so incredibly sexy and arousing about dominating Bellatrix, and being dominated in return. 

Spanking was admittedly one of Hermione’s favourite things to do, so she had to bite back a whimper when Bellatrix stopped suddenly and took a step back, no doubt to admire her _handy_ work. Trembling with need, Hermione gripped the edge of the desk, desperate to continue playing the part of the naughty, needy girlfriend who apparently needed a lesson in patience. 

After a few moments, she dared a glance over her shoulder at Bellatrix. The dark witch was panting, her hair was dishevelled, her high cheekbones were streaked with a beautiful flush. She looked like she’d just been fucked six ways from Sunday even though Hermione was the one who was currently bent over a desk. 

Hermione’s mouth watered at the sight.

And then Bellatrix’s hooded, dark eyes flickered to look at her with quiet concern. Something shifted between them, the air around them was thick with heat and arousal, but heavier now, saturated with a deep love that made Hermione’s heart throb more than her stinging backside. She shivered when Bellatrix reached for her again, soothing her burning flesh with the gentlest of caresses, and Hermione knew it was Bellatrix’s way of asking her if she was alright without breaking the magic of roleplay. 

“I’m so close, Bella,” Hermione said, putting extra emphasis into her breathy moan so Bellatrix knew that she was fine and wanted her to continue. “Please fuck me.”

Bellatrix didn’t need to be told twice, her eyes noticeably darkened and she snapped back into character. “I don’t believe I gave you permission to speak,” she growled, and entered her roughly from behind, sliding two fingers through her sleek warmth.

The groan that clawed its way from Hermione’s throat was almost bestial in its intensity and she futilely tried to grind her hips back into Bellatrix’s hand. She took Bellatrix’s pounding thrusts with abandon, swallowing a shout every time Bellatrix slammed into her. Vaguely, she heard Bellatrix’s amused, breathless laugh over her own cries, and managed another glance over her shoulder. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Bellatrix demanded, panting with the effort of her thrusts. “Hold still and take what I give you, you filthy little strumpet.”

“I can’t...oh, God, I can’t...” Hermione felt like her legs were about to buckle. “I - I’m so close...”

Bellatrix tsked, displeased. “Still impatient, I see. I think you can wait a little longer.”

Hermione exhaled a long, anguished whine and dropped her forehead against the desk with a soft thump. “Bloody hell, don’t do this to me,” she whimpered, aware that she sounded like a needy, desperate wreck. “Please Bell—ah!”

“Stand up, wench,” Bellatrix ordered gruffly, and tugged at Hermione’s hair, pulling her back against her chest as they both stood. She curled her arm around Hermione’s thin waist, holding her firmly in place as her other hand snuck up Hermione’s tank top to toy with her breast. 

Hermione sucked in a sharp breath when Bellatrix started to pinch and pull at her stiff nipple, and her head lolled back against Bellatrix’s shoulder, entire body stretched taut with need. On impulse, she reached back to grab at Bellatrix’s waist, squeezing her hip encouragingly. Bellatrix immediately snatched her wrist. 

“Did I give you permission to touch me? Are you incapable of following orders?” Bellatrix growled, and pushed Hermione’s hand away. Hermione just shook her head, unable to form words as Bellatrix’s pinched her nipple roughly. “Keep your greedy hands to yourself.”

And then Hermione was being spun against the desk once more, and before she could even recover her equilibrium, Bellatrix was wrapping her hands firmly around her thighs and hoisting her effortlessly onto the edge of the desk. Hermione squealed a little in both surprise and delight, hands scrambling for purchase on Bellatrix’s shoulders. 

For such a little woman, Bellatrix’s strength never failed to astound and arouse her.

Bellatrix smirked at her reaction and whispered her fingertips up Hermione’s quivering thighs again, looking like she could barely bite back the girlish giggle that bubbled from her throat when Hermione eagerly spread her legs. 

All Hermione could do was groan and squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head away when Bellatrix stepped between her legs and started to caress her soft inner thighs. But Hermione’s eyes flew open again in surprise when Bellatrix grabbed her chin roughly in one hand, fingers digging near painfully into her cheek.

“Eyes on me,” Bellatrix commanded. “I want you to look at me while I fuck you.”

The soft sound Hermione made when Bellatrix leaned in to press a gentle kiss against her lips was quickly followed by a loud, guttural moan when two fingers were thrust forcefully inside her dripping cunt. The dual sensation of her lover’s hard fingers and her soft lips sent Hermione’s senses into overdrive and she desperately started to grind her hips against Bellatrix’s palm again. 

The dark witch sighed and withdraw her hand. 

“Insubordinate little chit. Did I say you could do that?” Bellatrix smirked against her mouth. 

“Oh, Bella, you can’t be serious!” Hermione cried, frustrated and aroused in equal measures. 

“My game, my rules,” Bellatrix reminded her, and nipped at her jaw with sharp teeth. “I told you I’d stop if you didn’t comply.”

Hermione glared at Bellatrix, her flushed chest heaving, “You’re bloody enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Immensely. Now, do as you’re told,” Bellatrix husked. She buried her fingers inside her again and struck up a deliriously slow rhythm that made Hermione want to weep.

“Bella...” Hermione whined. Merlin, she was beyond desperate now, and she clenched her inner muscles in a bid to keep Bellatrix inside as she abused her G-spot with firm, maddeningly slow strokes. “I can’t...I can’t—”

“Shh, angel, you can take it,” Bellatrix muttered. 

Hermione shook and tossed her head back in protest, leaning back on her elbows on the desk. Bloody hell, she was in pain. Every inch of her ached with heat and desire. She was embarrassingly wet and sticky, she could feel the evidence of her desire coating the inside of her thighs, trickling down Bellatrix’s hand. 

Surely her witch’s fingers were beginning to cramp now? 

And just when Hermione thought she couldn’t possibly take any more, Bellatrix pushed her tank top up and lowered her dark head to flick a taut nipple with her lascivious pink tongue before tugging it between her teeth. Bellatrix suckled hard enough that Hermione honestly thought her spine might snap, and the dark witch tugged and massaged her other nipple between her fingers before subjecting it to the same torture, all the while finger fucking her into oblivion. 

Hermione hooked her ankles behind Bellatrix’s waist, pulling her as close as she could, and arched her back in a desperate need to push herself further into Bellatrix’s hot mouth, Bellatrix grinned around her nipple and glanced up at her from under long, dark lashes, her face alight with lust and greedy satisfaction. All Hermione could do was stare at her before her eyes fell closed, she was so, so close, right there, yes...

“More?” Bellatrix asked, and pulled away from Hermione’s breasts. 

“Yes!” Good Godric, what must she look like? Spread out on the desk, tank top pushed up around her neck with her bare breasts glistening in the lamplight, hair a tangled, knotted wreck. “Fuck, yes!”

Bellatrix’s eyes went glassy and she reached out to stroke her finger down Hermione’s cheek. Hermione leaned into the touch, panting, shaking, desperate for all and any contact she could get, craving something, anything.

“Mm, yes, I think you’ve had enough now,” Bellatrix pouted in feigned sympathy. “Poor baby.”

Hermione exhaled a rattling breath and sobbed, “Oh, please...”

“But have you learned your lesson, I wonder?” Bellatrix tapped her chin thoughtfully and leaned over to press a tender kiss to Hermione’s sweaty forehead. 

“Yes!” Hermione nearly screamed at her. “I’ve learned my lesson. Now please, please take me to bed and—”

“No, no. Here’s fine,” Bellatrix told her, a devilish grin curling at the corners of her lips. “You can come now.”

But before Hermione could say or do anything else, Bellatrix suddenly starting moving her fingers harder and deeper before dropping her head between Hermione’s thighs and swiping her tongue once over her slick clit, sucking it into her mouth, moaning at the taste. 

Unsurprisingly, that’s all it took for the white hot coil of desire in Hermione’s belly to finally snap and she came instantly. Her whole body convulsed viscerally with silent release as wave after glorious wave washed over her. Bellatrix barked a filthy laugh, husky and low, but Hermione barely heard it over the thumping rush of blood between her ears. 

And then Hermione’s head fell back, exposing her flushed neck to Bellatrix, and the dark witch leaned forwards to ravage her throat with wet kisses and scraping teeth. Hermione felt Bellatrix continue to slowly stroke her velvet inner muscles, milking every last bit of relief she could possibly get from her body. But gradually, her spasming grip loosened and Bellatrix’s fingers slowly slipped away. 

“Such a good girl, Hermione,” Bellatrix praised. 

Hermione didn’t know how to respond to that, all she could do was nod dumbly, sated, panting and dazed. The air between them was thick with the smell of sweat and sex and Bellatrix’s woody perfume, it almost sent another wave of desire coursing through her veins, but Bellatrix guided her to the edge of the desk and then back onto her feet.

The dark witch’s eyes were hooded and lazy now, and she smiled smugly as she leaned in to kiss her. They kissed passionately, nipping and sucking at every exposed piece of flesh they could find; jaw, throat, the swell of Bellatrix’s flushed, heaving décolletage. Then she tugged Hermione’s tank top down and hugged her ribs with her hands, thumbs stroking the soft flesh of her breasts. 

“Would you like to discuss how you literally couldn’t spare me one day to help your best mate put some nasties in prison?” Bellatrix teased when they finally parted. She carded her sticky fingers through Hermione’s hair in an effort to tame it, which of course didn’t work, and rested their forehead together. Then she gestured to the crumpled sheafs of parchment still littering the desk. “I told Potter I’d take a quick look and return his files tomorrow morning. If you hadn’t stormed away in a huff when he dropped by this morning then you would’ve known that.”

Hermione huffed a laugh and dropped her head against Bellatrix’s shoulder. “God, I’m sorry, Bella.”

“Oh, you will be,” she growled softly against Hermione’s ear. “I hope you realise you’ll be forgoing a long lie tomorrow to help me sanitise that fucking desk.”


End file.
